Heaven's Fall into Black Chaos
by Veldrin
Summary: Ten years after the disastrous ending of the Fourth Holy Grail War, Rin Tohsaka is prepared to finally realize her family's dream. Unfortunately, obtaining the Holy Grail may not be as simple as she thinks. (Sequel to From the Azure to Zero.)
1. Chapter 1

As the summary indicates, this is a sequel to From the Azure to Zero, covering the events of the Fifth Holy Grail War.

Disclaimer: I own neither Blazblue nor Type-Moon. This disclaimer applies to all chapters of this fanfic.

* * *

When people travelled by plane, those in the economic class often spent at least a few moments to consider the possibilities brought about by the First Class section. What kind of decadent comfort did those who spend so much money on a plane ticket enjoy?

Jealousy was a wonderful way to pass the time, after all.

In the case of this particular plane heading toward Fuyuki, Japan, the other passengers would have been surprised to learn that the suite had been reserved by eight people - less than half the maximum amount, and that none of them spent the flight enjoying the luxury that they had paid so high a price for.  
Part of that was because they hadn't paid anything for it. In fact, six of the people who had been listed as passengers weren't people at all.

As for the man who sat at the table located at the center of the suite, he paid no attention to the inanimated dolls; the entirety of his attention went toward reading the report that was placed before him.

"It is as I feared sir, they attacked our facility in France."

The slight Russian accent that marked his otherwise perfect Japanese betrayed his family's roots.

His interlocutor is the only other individual in the room, who has remained almost completely motionless for the past hour.

"Do not be concerned." Hastily fending off the glare of the grey eyes, he raised the report as though it was a shield. "They were able to salvage the seventh model and it will arrive one or two days after we do, well within schedule"

No sooner had he finished his sentence that the other turned away from him without interest, and he sighed in relief.  
Most who witnessed the scene would find his reaction quite odd, as the other man showed no sign of aggression or anger.

But he is Constantin Nazar Yggdmillenia, magus and a candidate Master for the Fifth Holy Grail War. His knowledge and wisdom far surpass that of the common man and it is for that reason that he is keenly aware of the true nature of his companion and partner.  
Even if it was unlikely that he would be killed because of the failure of others, simply enduring the full attention of such a man was a trial in itself.

Tomorrow the two of them would arrive at the city of Fuyuki and in the shadows of that quiet town, seven heroes and magi would clash in a battle to the death to claim the omnipotent wish granting device called the Holy Grail.

It would be the first time that Yggdmillenia officially entered this contest and as such he could normally have expected the full support of the main family.  
However, the unofficial involvement of their group in a previous war had ended in disaster and he had been forced to arrange matters himself as a result. In fact, most of Yggdmillenia's members were unaware of his efforts.

If he failed, he would fade into history as a mere footnote.

But if he succeeded, rewards beyond his wildest dreams awaited him.

But it was much too early to begin thinking about what might come at the end when it hadn't even begun. Blinking himself back to the present, he relaxed in his seat to continue to review the important project that had been completed mere weeks ago.

He considered it a good thing that the Holy Grail War had returned while he was still in his prime, but a mere decade had almost been too short an interval; if it had occured but a year ago, he would have had to give up on the opportunity.

Thinking of the one that travelled with him, he couldn't help but wonder if that might have been the better outcome.

* * *

"So you have finally reached a decision?"

It was the calm voice of a wise mentor that echoed throughout the holy place, offering peace to those who would hear it.

The voice fit the speaker, as the priest clad in black stood proudly before the altar, looking down to the girl that he had been teaching for the better part of a decade now.

They made for a strange pair, the priest's black hair and monochrome apparel making the red of her clothes stand out, particularly in such an austere place.

"Drop the act, Kirei." The irritated voice of Tohsaka Rin cut through the atmosphere like a knife. "I've been training for this since I was born, there was never a chance of me giving up my place."

If her classmates had heard her speak that way the image of a perfect student would have crumbled into nothing, especially since she spoke to such a respected member of the community.  
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that she was the only person who had dared raise her voice to him in this place ever since he had taken over the task from his father. But she had known him for longer than she could remember, and any sense of awe or intimidation that could come from him had vanished around the time she had finally managed to kick the smile off his face.

"Of course." With the same amiable nod that he used when one asked him to pray for a loved one, Kotomine Kirei brushed off the offense. "I was referring to your use of the relic I prepared. It wasn't easy to acquire it, you know? Why, I barely managed to fetch it before it was put on auction."

"I might be more grateful if I knew what it was." It was there that lied the true source of her even more aggressive disposition than usual; the all-important relic that would decide her Servant and partner throughout the upcoming war had been kept secret merely for the amusement of a mischievous priest. "The only reason I agreed to this is because you promised me that I'd have the strongest Servant."

The annoyance in Rin's voice did little to conceal the deep anxiety that lied in her heart. In truth, she didn't care if the relic belonged to a tyrant, a hero or even a monster. All that mattered was that it matched the promise that the priest had made.

She needed the strongest, more than anything else.

With a long suffering sigh, Kotomine reached into his pocket.

"I had intended to ask you to perform the summoning blindly as repayment for all those years of ungratefulness, but in that state you wouldn't even speak the incantation correctly." Ignoring her outraged glare, he produced a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. "Then bear witness to the fruit of my efforts and repent, Rin."

Suspiciously, she took hold of the box.

He was being far too dramatic; Kotomine enjoyed theatrics, but only when there was a payoff at the end. Whatever was in the box, it was either a relic so great that it would more than match his promise or a tasteless joke.

With bated breath, she slid open the container and felt anger ignite again in her heart.

This was no great magical relic, no sigil of power that would summon an unfathomable knight of old. Nothing but a shapeless clump of colorless matter that had been used to draw a smile.

"Hey, what the hell is-"

At the last moment, she swallowed her words when she noticed the smug expectation in his smile.

He wanted her to get angry, she mustn't fall for his petty game. But if he smiled like that, it was a trap rather than a bait.  
A trap...but what kind of trap? Surely he had hidden the relic inside the amorphous substance; taking the risk of damaging such an important object would be going too far even for him.

The answer came to her in a flash, a memory from the countless lessons that she had taken. A certain legend that anyone who had the slightest interest in mythology would know of.

"Wait, is this really-"

Her voice fell into silence as his smile widened ever further with every word.

"Bow your head for doubting me, ungrateful apprentice. As promised, I have delivered the strongest weapon."

She most certainly did _not _bow her head, but she couldn't help but look down again at the unassuming form that she held in her hand.

Nothing more than a lump of clay...


	2. Chapter 2

It was a frequent misunderstandings among the lower, and higher, families that made up the Clock Tower that the title of Lord indicated that one was superior by default. While it was certainly true that those of the major families might as well be immune to disgrace, the minor families were often left to fend for themselves.  
Never in public, of course. It was required that they give the appearance of cohesion and stability in order to maintain the establishment. But if the wrong move was made, the heir that had until now never missed for anything might suddenly find that it wasn't so easy to acquire the ingredients for their next experience. Minor inconveniences would pile up, and eventually it turned out that a magus' entire life could be spent overcoming the consequences of having offended the wrong person.

In order to avoid such problems every Lord had come to develop political links to lesser families, a veritable web of supporters and friends that would ensure that everything went smoothly.  
It was by playing the role of supplier and contact thanks to their extensive network in Western Asia that the Wynne family maintained their relatively lofty position under one of the Lordly houses.

Johnathan Wynne, the current head, found this situation objectionable.

It wasn't that he had anything against politics, really. To be honest, the subjugated status of his house didn't bring any great discontent. The problem was that he had realized after inheriting his magic crest that his father had spent so much time sucking up to the higher ups that he had almost universally failed to advance their craft.  
That, he had issues with.

How could he possibly make up for that loss of momentum? Progress was a magus family's lifeblood, and stagnation only led to inevitable decay.  
Since he wasn't a prodigy that could single-handedly advance the cause and his predecessor had been lacking in judgment, it fell to him to find a way to garner an advantage that would make up for it.

Simply put, he needed knowledge and wisdom that would make up for the underwhelming past generations.

That ongoing quest was the reason why he now found himself standing before a crimson red circle engraved on the ground.

"The circle is ready. Are there any last minute pieces of advice that you would like to share, instructor?"

Barely reacting to the irritation in his voice, the man that he had adressed sent a disdainful look at the circle on the ground over the electronic device that he held.

"Yeah: If you manage to fuck up something this simple, Belfaban should fire your teacher. Dammit, the batteries are low."

Muttering in a tone too low to be heard, the man looked back down toward the screen.

Restraining himself from sighing, Johnathan reminded himself that he should be grateful to have the man's cooperation at all. The difference in status between himself and a Lord would normally make it unthinkable for them to act as equal.

Which had made for quite a surprise when, after making his intent to participate in the Fifth Holy Grail War known, he had received a personal visit from Lord El-Melloi II.  
For reasons that he couldn't fathom, this rising star among the instructors of the Clock Tower had offered to accompany him as a consultant. Considering that Wynne himself considered his odds of victory to be next to non-existent, this made little sense.

Still, when given the chance to receive help from such a prestigious character - a veteran from the Fourth War, at that! - he had found himself unable to refuse.

Learning that El-Melloi II was one of the most deliberately insufferable persons he had ever met made him regret that decision slightly.

Retrieving the catalyst, a small ring, from a hidden pocket in his coat, he bent to carefully place it in the center.

"Dammit!" Suddenly agitated, El-Melloi threw the device on a nearby table. Recovering his morose expression a second later, he turned to the startled Johnathan. "Well, anyway. Just in case you end up messing it up, what containers have been called so far?"

A question like that normally couldn't be answered by anyone except the supervisor of the war. However if there was one thing that Johnathan could take pride in, it was in his talent to "receive information". Over the past month he had managed to elaborate a system that would analyze the information emitted by the Greater Grail, allowing him to detect the flow of prana associated with the summoning of an entity as powerful as a Servant.  
An ability doubly useful since it also drew a bullseye right on his future rivals' workshops.

"Archer was summoned before we even arrived." He recited from memory while checking the scrying tablet for any changes. "Berserker was summoned two days ago, and Rider was summoned yesterday. At this pace, the war will begin in the next three days."

The urgency was one of the reasons why he had hurried in the preparation of the circle. As far as he could tell, the Heroic Spirit that he intended to summon could only fit the class of Caster. If someone else called such a Servant first, he would have to rely on chance to provide him with an adequate Servant.

"That's interesting." Brushing his hair with his hand, El-Melloi elaborated at Johnathan's confused look. "Normally, you'd expect Assassin to be summoned early. If you have the time to plan ahead, you can set things up to eliminate people quickly. The fact that no one took advantage of the ability to choose Assassin means that they either had something specific in mind, or just came in and summoned without a plan."

There seemed to be some bitterness at those last words, but Wynne decided to let it go; there was no way to tell how the man would react if he started prying into his affairs.

"Well, anyway." Waving his previous comment away, the instructor went to sit at the table that his unfortunate device had landed on. "Do what you have to."

Nodding, Wynne positioned himself in front of the circle.

It felt a little absurd to be carrying out such an life-changing ritual in a warehouse of all things, but it had been El-Melloi's opinion that a grandiose base was the most likely to be found.

Raising one hand to circle, he intoned the chant that would seal his participation.

"Let silver and steel be the essence.  
The foundation shall of stone.  
And the archduke of contracts.  
Let gold be the color of the tribute..."

He could feel the answer from afar, as a torrent of wind began to rise from the circle with the answer of the Holy Grail. Even the unflappable instructor had fallen motionless in front of the raw power that now filled the room.

Raising his voice, he continued the incantation without flaw even as the violent flow of prana spread through his limbs like a thousand knives, bringing him to his knees.

At last, after what seemed like an hour of suffering, he reached the final words of the ritual.

"-If you will acknowledge this will and reason, appear, protector of the balance!"

A sun was born amidst the circle, blinding golden light filling the room and forcing him to shield his eyes.

"I have arrived, in answer to your summons." Even as the light receded, he could only smile in trumph and continue to kneel; the majestic voice that rang out the proof of his success. "In accordance with the contract, I shall guide you along the path to your desire."


	3. Chapter 3

A decade ago, a disaster had fallen on Fuyuki City. With the Hyatt hotel at its epicenter, a great number of people had lost their minds and become violent or suicidal for a single night. In truth the number of victims who had lost their lives or been severely wounded barely reached two dozens, but it had nonetheless led to a drastic deterioration of the neighborhood. Be it because of worry that some of the gas to which the disaster had been attributed might remain or because of superstition, the hotel and several of the surrounding houses had become abandoned. Even now, a decade later, some of the residents preferred to make a detour around the block.

It was thanks to those superstition that a certain man had been able to take residence in one of the nearby houses without attracting attention.

The two of them made for an incongruous pair, an ordinary man wearing a white jacket facing a thin man dressed in black from head to toe, his face hidden by skull mask. Seemingly unperturbed by the clash between their appearances, they had been discussing for several minutes now.

"The common man is an unsalvageable fool, that is true of all eras."

With a deep, raspy voice, Servant Assassin expressed his opinion in earnest. After all, who would know the foolishness of the masses better than one who had carefully attained the highest reputation as a killer in his life?

Shaking his head in denial, his opponent offered a response.

"If that were so, then how do you explain that humanity has reached this far? Not only have we explored this planet, but the hand of man is now reaching even into what was formerly the realm of the gods. "

"Is that not obvious? It is because of the extraordinary few. I do not speak solely of those Heroic Spirits born from admiration, but of all those who showed the way for the rest of humanity. In fact, one needs only look at Heroic Spirits to witness the weakness of the people of this age."

A touch of bitterness entered the killer's voice at this subject, but he carried on without touching on his own feelings.

"With the new methods of transferring information, the excuses for ignorance that existed in the past are no longer valid. Yet still, the people choose to worship those who were exceptional from the start. Demigods, foretold heroes, ones chosen by fate, those are the ones that are glorified above all. Do you know why it is so?"

There was no time to even attempt to answer the rhetorical question; Assassin was evidently knowledgeable enough in debates to know better than to allow his opponent time to speak against him.

"It is not because their deeds are greater, or because they are more worthy, but rather because they are different. The common man cannot be expected to equal Heracles, for he lacks the blood of a god. With excuses like this, they run from reality and refuse to advance and seek glory. Despite gaining knowledge, they have not learned from it. That is why the common man is an irredeemable fool."

Its cause unseen yet undeniable, a sense of oppression filled the room as the words were spoken. Twitching nervously, Assassin almost rose from his seat.

The man in white, unperturbed by the presence, shared this opinion of the common man and could not deny that the current humanity was unsatisfactory, but the conclusion drawn by Assassin was something that he could not accept.

"That kind of thinking is itself the problem. It is certainly true that the average person is lacking in strength, but that is because they are unable to recognize the opportunities that present themselves." Through the steady tone of a lecturer, a hint of frustration could be felt. "Giving up before they begin, living on the comfort brought by the previous generations, humans make no effort to become strong, but that is not the same as being unable to reach strength. If one could find the right stimuli, the right circumstances, then I am certain that humanity can be broken free of its lethargy."

The skull fell silent for several seconds, gazing at the stony expression of the other man before breaking out in a mocking laugh.

"Heh. Hehehehe. An optimist, aren't you? I've met many men like you, few ever amounted for anything." Unwilling to remain for much longer in the now tense atmosphere, he yielded the point and moved on to business. "Still, you appear to have conviction and that will be sufficient for now. What was it that you wanted from me?"

The change in subject was hardly subtle, but the other man chose to allow it to pass; from the beginning, he had only wished Assassin's cooperation.

"There are five Masters unaccounted for, I wish for you to place one of these on each of them." Carefully he produced five strands of silver fabric that had been tied together. "The location is not crucial as they will attach themselves, but it must be on an uncovered area of their body."

Lifting it to his eyes, Assassin curiously inspected the devices.

"Some kind of puppeting magecraft, then?"

"You mean magecraft to forcibly take control of another's body from a distance?" At a confirming nod, the man shook his head. "I fear I do not possess the capacity for such a thing. It is nothing but a minor mystic code that will connect with the subject's mind."

"Nothing more than that? Hehehe. You magi truly are the most frightening of humans, a mere killer like me cannot compare. Still, I will do as you request for now."

Rising to his feet, he swiftly vanished into the shadows of the house.

Mere moments later a golden light gathered at the nearby window, revealing a man clad in majestic silver armor, standing perfectly straight as though perpetually at attention. Compared to his overly normal Master and the suspicious-looking Assassin, the presence of one who was so obviously a hero seemed to fill the entire house with dignity.  
Undoubtedly, he had been the source of Assassin's uneasiness.

"The pretender has finally crawled back to his sewer."

The noble features allowed no sign of scorn to slip through.

"You should not be so blunt toward such a useful ally." Allowing a few seconds for the empty rebuke to pass, his Master continued. "You were displeased during our conversation, did you disagree?"

"No, it is certainly true that the people of this era are misusing the tools available to them, despite those tools being greater than they ever were." The words were forced through with reluctance, as though the mere admission displeased him. "However, I do not believe that this is not out of foolishness. They merely lack the guidance necessary to make proper use of them. Drunk in their freedom, they follow the words of those who are no more knowledgeable than themselves. The fall of monarchy was a shameful mistake, if a great king rose to prominence in this era then it could become a true golden age."

"A great king, is it?" Repeating the words to himself, a mysterious smile came to his Master. "But if you agreed with our discussion, then what was the cause of your uneasiness?"

"The man himself, of course."

"I see." With a nod of understanding, he spoke the obvious. "I suppose that for one as honorable as yourself, the very existence of such people must be repulsive."

"Not in the way that you believe. Although I disagree with such methods and have no use for them, I acknowledge that not everyone is able to fight on the frontlines; to sacrifice one's own glory and act in the shadows in support of the king is an acceptable substitute to ability." The words were all the more offensive because of how carelessly they were spoken, but the knight in silver did not acknowledge it. "But that is not such a man, he is nothing more than a glory hound. Resentful of the praise that others receive, he seeks to downplay their achievements. He is nothing more than a pretender, unworthy to stand on equal footing with us as a Servant."

If the previous words had been careless, the knight was barely containing his disdain by the time he finished.

"Glory…" And yet, his Master paid little attention to the comment torward their ally's character, his attention caught by another part of the judgment. "Please show it to me in the coming days, the glory of a battlefield. I will with my own eyes witness the value of a hero's life."  
Without a care that his opinion had seemingly been dismissed, Saber bowed respectfully.

"Of course, and at the end of the battle we will restore the world to its rightful course."

Such was the nature of the vow that bound Master and Servant.


	4. Chapter 4

As school finally ended, Rin barely restrained herself from running toward her home. Taking the situation into consideration, it was a miracle that she had managed to maintain her image as a perfect student throughout the day; only the knowledge that the time she looked forward to wouldn't come any faster had kept her in class.

All the preparations had been made; with the relic she had received from Kotomine yesterday, she could finally execute the summoning tonight.

In theory the relic wasn't necessary, with the power of the Holy Grail that she would be allowed to access, there was no doubt that a Heroic Spirit would answer her call. Combined with her excellent qualifications, she was confident that she would have summoned the strongest Servant even with no other factors in play; it was Kotomine who had insisted that she wait.

"I will not have my student embarrass herself before the war has even begun. Victory or defeat is up to you, but it is my duty to prepare you as well as I can."

Somehow, he had managed to say it with a straight face, and she hadn't been able to decline his help as a result.

Having walked quickly in her anticipation of the night's events, she arrived at her home much earlier than usual. Stopping at the door, she took a deep breath.

Winning the Holy Grail, for all that it was a great task was only a formality; as the Second Owner of Fuyuki, she wouldn't lose to any outsiders. The cause of her nervousness was the man waiting behind that door.

Ten years ago, a tragedy had forced her father to distance himself from the world she lived in. Technically she saw him almost every day, and she couldn't claim that he paid no attention to her.

However, those interactions between father and daughter lacked the feelings of complicity that her earlier memories contained. The one time she had attempted to recover that link, the expression on his face had been such that even her ten year old self had fallen silent.

The tragedy that had ruined her father's life had occurred in the same battle that she about to enter, and because of that she wouldn't fail. No matter what, she would succeed.

Having steadied herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.

"I'm home."

As if on cue, Tohsaka Tokiomi emerged from the study, briefcase in hand. As impeccably dressed as he had ever been, he was the perfect picture of a businessman about to leave for work.

"Right on time, I have finished arranging affairs, and am now ready to go join your mother."

The respectful tone of his voice wasn't one that a father took to talk to his daughter, but rather one of an employee reporting the completion of his task.

Ever since that day, it was the tone that he had used whenever he handled the family affairs that Rin was still too young to take over in the eyes of the law.

"Thank you, father."

According to the ritual that they had developed, she bowed slightly. Before she could rise again, he startled her by placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Rin, today is the day that you have been preparing yourself for."

"Ah." At a loss for words, she felt tears coming to her eyes from the warmth in his voice. "Y-yes, father."

"The burden that my inadequacy forced on your shoulders is a heavy one, and I worried that you were too young at the time." Swallowing the lump in her throat, she shook her head in denial in place of the words that wouldn't come out. "However, my worries were empty ones. If it is you, then the dream passed down from our ancestors will be realized."

Had his voice cracked? No, she must have imagined it; her father was always collected. When she lifted her eyes to confirm it, he stepped past her, allowed her to see nothing but his back.

"I'll succeed!" Turning toward him, she threw away her hesitation. "I'll definitely win, father."

A sound that wasn't quite a chuckle came from him.

"A long time ago, your mother wished me good luck." Stepping through the door that she had left open, he made no attempt to turn back toward her. "Rin, you do not need luck."

After ten years, those were the only words that her father left for her as he walked away, his departing figure blurred to her eyes.

It was only when she was certain that he was gone that she allowed herself to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

Two hours past midnight was the time when her magical energy reached its apex. For something as important as summoning her Servant, it was the natural choice.

In truth, summoning a Servant was all too simple. The process and incantation that she had memorized almost ten years ago came naturally to her, and even the pain caused by the effort was numbed by her excitement. The moment that she had been looking forward to for years had passed before she even realized it had begun.

It was only when she spoke the final words of the chant that she felt satisfaction, when the magical energy gathered in an event that was worth the effort a thousand times over.

The brilliant light that had appeared gathered in the center of the summoning circle that she had carefully traced, taking form as an overwhelming sense of presence filled the room.

It had arrived, the Heroic Spirit that would serve as her sword and hand her the Holy Grail.

"I ask of you; are you my master?"

The voice, while harmonious, was…disappointingly mundane, but she had to admit she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. Certainly, she never thought her Servant would sound so young.

Although, now that she could actually look at - him? Yes, if the summoning had gone correctly it would be a "he" - he definitely looked young enough for such a voice. Slightly taller than her with incredibly long hair, he seemed to be no older than she was. In fact, his features were so smooth that he appeared even younger, to the point that it was slightly disturbing.

Still, this was definitely her Servant. Taking a deep breath, she slowed down her heart.

"Yes, I am the one who summoned you."

Holding up her hand as her father's notes had described, she revealed the Command Spells that had appeared; the final proof of their contract.

As he leaned closer to look at it, she realized what disturbed her about him; his features were simply too smooth, perfectly symmetrical. An unnatural perfection that could only be artificial. From head to toe, as much as she could see with his robe, he didn't have a single scar or imperfection.

Apparently satisfied by the sight of the Command Spells, the young man looked back at her.

"Alright, I accept you as my Master and will be acting as Lancer."

Serenely, Lancer nods as if there was nothing left to discuss.

So he was Lancer? That was good news; from what she'd learned of the past Grail Wars, the three Knight classes were generally considered the strongest. Saber was considered the strongest class of them all, but she supposed it had already been taken. Beside, father had lost despite claiming it, so it couldn't be that great.

"Hey, hold on a second. You haven't told me your true name yet."

It was probably just a formality in this case, since she had used a relic to summon him, but if something unexpected had occurred, she'd rather know now.

"My name is Enkidu, use me however you want."

Direct and without any pride, he dismissed his own existence as if it was only natural.

"I'm Tohsaka Rin." She paused for an instant as she registered the rest of his words. "By that, you mean you'll follow my orders?"

"Of course, since this is your battle." With a shrug, he met her curious stare. "Normally, I wouldn't be interested by something like this, but if you call me personally, then I have to answer right?"

Normally, a Servant would be summoned in the war with the Holy Grail as incentive, but he'd only come because she had sought him out specifically?

Eyes narrowing in anger, she growled.

"Hey, are you making light of this ritual?"

Arms raised in surrender, he gently smiled at her.

"Of course not. I've already passed from this world, so there's nothing for me to gain or lose in something like this, you know?" Spreading his arms, he continued hastily before she could reply. "But please don't think I'll fight half-heartedly because of that; now that you're my Master, I'll make your cause mine. Since you want the Holy Grail, I'll desire it while our contract lasts."

His expression when speaking those words was so calm that it made her want to shake him, but considering the situation she settled for taking a deep breath.

Thinking about it, wasn't that for the best? She was the representative of one of the three families that knew the truth of the ritual; and she would fight with her Servant. Even though she was a magus, it wouldn't be surprising if she started caring about them.

In normal circumstances, she would have had to close her heart but since it was like this, then it wouldn't be a betrayal at all. A Servant that didn't even want the Holy Grail wouldn't begrudge her in the end.

"…Alright, I'll accept that for now. I'd better not catch you slacking off."

Innocently, he blinked at her in surprise.

"Didn't I just say that I wouldn't?"

Mere moments ago, the spirit board that was in possession of the supervisor had confirmed the summoning of Lancer, the final Servant.

"And so it begins. A decade is faster than expected, but it was still far too lengthy a wait."

Cloaked in the oppressive darkness of the church, the priest sighed. This was a day that he had been dreading and looking forward to, ever since he had made his decision.

Idly, he entertained the thought of Rin's reaction if she had missed her chance. He didn't expect that it was the case, but the possibility was amusing by itself.

A faint smile on his lips, Kotomine Kirei rose from his chair and moved toward the form that was haphazardly lying on his couch.

"It is time."

The dramatic announcement brought no answers except a vague muttering.

Had she actually fallen asleep? How shameless. Reaching down, he picked up the coat that had been abandoned on the ground.

"I have told you before, God's house is no place for slothful behavior."

Having delivered his warning, he allowed the coat to fall over her head.

Naturally, a piece of cloth wouldn't be enough to wake someone from a deep sleep. However, the firearm inside the coat's pocket made quite a satisfying sound when it connected with her head.

"Ow!" Ungracefully sitting up while rubbing her head, blurry eyes found him. "What the hell, Kirei?!"

"You brought it upon yourself." At her outraged glare, he smiled without remorse. "I did not allow someone as useless as you to stay here so that you could sleep instead of working."

"I'm not useless!"

The familiar protest made his smile turn predatory. It was an old argument, he didn't know why she fell into it every time when she never won.

"Truly? How long has it been since you contributed to this church?"

A shocked blink told him that she was unprepared for that approach.

"That's-"

"Three years, and two years before that." Mercilessly, he crushed her protest before her tired mind could even put up a defense. "But if you object to useless, then I believe the popular term for people like you is "freeloader"."

"Ugh." Leaning back in defeat, she sighed. "Alright, you wanted me to go and see the other Servants? But why? You aren't even participating this time."

Allowing the smile to fade now that he had been victorious, he replied mechanically.

"Naturally, it is my duty as the supervisor to ensure that no serious harm come to the general public." He continued as an after-thought. "There is the matter of Rin to consider as well."

Focusing entirely on the second explanation, she smirked.

"So you did end up caring about your student after all."

"Of course, I have spent a decade teaching her. It will reflect poorly on me if that girl dies too easily." He carefully remained neutral, not rising to her bait. "If Rin makes a mistake and is defeated or falls in battle, I will accept it. However I would prefer that she have an opportunity to struggle to her heart's content, rather than simply being crushed by a monster that she was unprepared to face."

Ten years was a large investment after all, if the sight of Rin's battle couldn't even repay him that much then all of his efforts would have amounted to a farce.

"I guess I'll accept that for now." Speaking as though it was a favor, she swung the coat over her shoulders. "I'm heading out then, see you in the morning."

As she was about to exit the room, he delivered the real punishment for her carelessness.

"Also, we're out of spices; buy the right ones this time."


	6. Chapter 6

A cane clattered against the ground in the darkness of the night.

The darkness should have made it difficult to navigate the park for someone with his handicap, but the old man stepped forward evenly; he had long since overcome such problems.

A few meters ahead, the person waiting for him looked up from her seat.

"Master Matou?"

Questioning him with textbook perfect pronunciation, the tall blonde dressed in black perfectly embodied the stereotype of a foreign businesswoman.

Black eyes met her form with disdain.

"Constantin did not come himself? I would have thought him respectful enough to come conclude our partnership in person."

Accepting the response as the indirect confirmation of his identity that it was, she bowed.

"Master Nazar offers his apologies, but his current position is too delicate for him to appear in public at the moment."

"In other words I am not worth the effort, humph." The old man shook his head disapprovingly. "No matter, no matter. Is it ready?"

Ordinarily he would have taken his time with formalities before jumping to business, even for something as important as this, but there would be no point with that person.

"Of course."

With a snap of her fingers, two figures approached from deeper into the park, a man and another woman that could have been her twins for all the differences between them. In their hands, they easily held a metallic box taller than even they were, moving as carefully as if it was made of glass.

"Master Nazar supervised its creation personally." Speaking even as the old man eagerly approached his prize, the woman signaled for the other two to open the box. "Rest assured, it has been made to match every criteria you specified."

Without reacting to the cold assurance, the old man gazed at the contents, an emotion that he could scarcely contain rising in him. How long had it been, since he had such an opportunity?

"Well, everything seems in order."

His inspection complete, Matou Zouken nodded to the two carriers before moving away slightly.

"Come, boy, and bring the box!"

It took several moments before a younger man came into view, his curly blue hair appearing almost black in the night. The morose look that he wore left no doubt as to how much choice he had in being present, though it alleviated slightly as he observed the woman.

Holding a small box in his hand, he handed it over to his grandfather, who turned it toward his interlocutor without offering him any further attention.

"The final piece. I must say that Constantin's request was quite intriguing. Do let him know that I would be quite interested in knowing of his true intentions."

Retrieving the package without further inspection, the woman nodded mechanically.

"I will give the message to master Nazar."

Lifting the metal box once more the other two carried it wordlessly to his car, carefully placing it inside the trunk.

"Good night, master Matou."

Their task done, the three bowed to him and left without a word, unaware or uncaring of the look that the teenager sent toward their representative.

"Stop this adolescent fantasy, Shinji." Reprimanding him with a kind tone, the old man beckoned him toward the car. "A man of my bloodline can do better than a second-rate puppet."

Torn between annoyance at the reprobation and appreciation at the suggestion of his worth, the boy shrugged and abandoned his vigil without another look, closing the trunk before joining his grandfather.

"I'm not sure why you had me come at all, grandfather. It's not like we were the ones bringing the heavy cargo."

"You fancy yourself my successor, don't you?" A rictus appeared on Zouken's wrinkled visage. "These are the kind of people you would have to deal with if that was the case. If Constantin had come, I might have taken the opportunity introduced you."

Matou Shinji perked up immediately at the suggestion, a proud grin appearing.

"Ah, so you finally have no choice but to acknowledge me, huh?"

For the Matou family, an ancient line of magus, there could only be one successor. Because the successor had already been designated as another, the young man had been carefully neglected by his grandfather for years.

It was only recently that that had changed. Naturally, Shinji had arrived at the conclusion that it was because the situation had changed and Zouken had come to see him in a new light; why else would that old monster suddenly show interest?

Certainly, he knew that he lacked the power to be a magus, but in his opinion he was still worth much more than someone who lacked the will. It was as much his fear of the old man as his eagerness to change his fortune that had led to him being present for the night.

"Your recent efforts deserved a reward, that's all." After a moment of thought, the old man continued with an outrageous lie. "But if everything goes well over the next few days, I'll consider it."

Nodding in understanding, Shinji continued to smile.

"You mean with the war, right? There won't be any problem."

How could such a simple young man know the thoughts of someone who had lived for five hundred years?

"In parts, yes. You won't be going to school tomorrow, there's something I need you and your sister to do."

The association made Shinji cringe, but his grandfather's smirk only widened. Of course, he had known how Shinji would react to it; while he might have been reluctant to accept orders before, he certainly wouldn't show it now that he knew that someone else would carry them out even if he refused. After all, what he feared more than anything was being dismissed.

"Fine, what is it?"

"I will be finishing the business we arranged tonight." Unable to resist sending a glance behind him where his precious container had been placed, Zouken continued nonetheless. "It'll be important that I not be disturbed, so the two of you will have to handle anyone who passes by the house. No one must enter it."

The insinuation that the usual protections would be neutralized during that time didn't even occur to the boy, who merely saw the task as a chore that he would have to complete for his true goals.

"Alright. Even if a Master comes knocking, I'll be sure not to let anyone take a step inside."

Had there ever been a declaration less reassuring? Still, Zouken nodded appreciatingly. His pawns were limited in this situation, and even someone like Shinji should at least be able to buy some mediocre amount of time if anyone realized that the Matou family wasn't as retired as they pretended to be.

And if the boy and his sister lost their lives in the process, it wasn't like anything of value was lost. From the beginning, there had never been anyone but himself who could carry on the name of Makiri.


	7. Chapter 7

Far from the shady dealings of magi, near the outskirts of the city where houses were few and far between, two men faced each other.

What was the tension that filled the air between them? Even the vermin had fallen silent, waiting for a sign that it was safe to breathe once more.

At last, the man on the right spoke, his voice heavy with the power of one who knew he would be listened to by all the world.

"I had been told that of all Servants, Saber was the greatest. A claim I dismissed at the time, but I see now that I may have erred in my judgment, if you are this war's knight of the sword. The gods be praised; it is a great honor to face one such as yourself."

The praise stood in constrat to the speaker's harsh features; his visage partially hidden by a great beard and his eyes as cold as the northern wind, but there were none that would doubt his honesty after beholding his opponent.

It was only natural for a Heroic Spirit to possess a level of magical energy beyond mere humans, and there wasn't a magi alive that would be able to confuse them for a normal person when they took action, but the giant went beyond that. Even if when motionless, he carried around him a sense of presence that shook the world around him.

That man, carrying a sword covered with runes, had probably been someone who surpassed humanity from the beginning. It was that overpowering feeling that had pushed his opponent to acknowledge him before the battle had even begun.

"No, it is I who must offer my thanks." The rumbling voice shook the air, silencing the night's wind. "I dared not hope that I would be allowed to take part in this war's first battle."

Raising his bare hands to his side, the bearded man smiled.

"I am an accomplished swordsman myself, but I will not insult you by attempting to engage in close-combat. Therefore I, Rider, shall offer the opening blow – Come, guardian!"

The air between them warped and shook, and a winged lion with the face of a man appeared before the one who had identified as Rider, its powerful musculature almost equalling that of the giant called Saber.

"A protector of the Assyrians? I see that you are not one to hide who you are."

As Saber whispered, the lion moved like the wind, one of its paws aiming for the man's torso with a dexterity that would have shamed any animal. But even that was lacking against that hero; the giant easily batted it aside with a speed that belied his mass and reached for its neck, intending to quickly end the battle.

This time, it was he who had underestimated his adversary, for a great wind rose around the magical beast and allowed it to slip from his grasp. It was all he could do to turn his movement into a roll to avoid having his jugular slashed open.

Without hesitation, he retrieved the great sword from his back and turned to parry the following strike, using the beast's momentum to throw it into a nearby tree that shattered as though it were made of glass from the impact.

Immediately turning back toward Rider, he saw that a second guardian had appeared, this one calling upon the power of nature to turn the wind into a razor blade that would slice him to ribbons.

In theory an attack of the sort would have no effect upon the class of Saber, which boasted the highest magic resistance amongst Servants, but there was no magical energy in the act of that beast; nature bent to its will by rights of existence.

As his death approached, Saber offered a joyful smile as he lifted upon his sword and struck down, and such was the strength of his blow that an opposing wind rose, barring the path of the attack that was meant to slay him..

Even Rider, who had remained uncaring during the earlier exchange, couldn't stop himself from showing surprise.

"Amazing, and that with a mere borrowed sword!"

Saber's smile diminished slightly at those words. He had hoped that the magnificient runes would fool at least his first opponent, but it seemed that the Assyrian was too observant for that.

Indeed, what he used was not his true Noble Phantasm; it was merely a mystic code prepared by his master, reinforced to be able to last at least for a time in a battle between Servants. The reason for that was simply that if he unveiled his true weapon, it would be all too easy for the others to determine who he was.

The cracking of wood from behind told him that the first guardian had risen again, and a quick look confirmed that, as he had expected, it had suffered no true damage from his throw.

If he were to be honest, his situation wasn't the best. The guardians, protective deities named shedu if he recalled correctly, were protected by layers of wind that stopped him from laying a hand on them. While a direct strike from his sword would easily break through such a trick, they had the advantage of mobility thanks to their wind manipulation and their numbers stopped him from fully focusing on one target. It was even possible that Rider possessed more than two of them.

Actually even if Rider only possessed two of them, that would still be sufficient to force a single warrior on the defensive, at which point the two guardians would gain the advantage through attrition until Rider saw an opportunity for the fatal blow.

Throwing his head back, Saber laughed with a strength to shake the heavens. So what if the situation appeared dire? Compared to what he had faced in life, this was mere child's play.

Meeting his enemy's glee with a bloodthirsty smile, Rider signaled the two guardians who moved at a speed beyond anything they had shown before.

Circling around Saber, the spirits chanted as they called upon the most furious winds of nature, exciting them into a natural catastrophe.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Reminder that I own neither Blazblue nor Type-Moon.

* * *

Under the mantle of night, the Church created as a testament to God's power took on an oppressive atmosphere that dared people to approach it.

Standing in that great shadow, the young girl appeared even smaller than she truly was, but her hesitation wasn't brought on by the oppressive atmosphere. What had halted her was the otherwordly feeling that surrounded the Church. It surrounded the building like a haze, inviting and yet repulsive all the same.

Shaking off her hesitation, she walked up to the door and brought her small fist to the door.

It wasn't very loud, but she only knocked as a formality anyway. She knew for a fact that the priest in charge had already noticed her approach long before she reached the door. In fact, it was offensive that he hadn't come to open the door and instead made her knock.

Considering the circumstances, she would overlook it.

After almost a minute had elapsed, the door opened, and the tall priest looked down at her.

With a lack of surprise that told her she had been right, he bowed slightly as he stepped aside to ler her enter.

"Welcome, Master of Einzbern. I apologize for making you wait, but I was occupied."

There wasn't even the slightest hint of mockery in his tone, so she passed by him with the disinterest that would be expected of nobility.

Closing the door behind her, he followed as she walked down the aisle.

"I am Kotomine Kirei." If he was bothered by her act, he didn't show it. "Your arrival took me by surprise; the other Masters ignored my request to come and present themselves to the Church."

Of course they had. Secrecy was the greatest weapon for weak Masters, so they wouldn't want to reveal themselves, and half of them probably didn't even know about the new 'rule' in the first place. Had the man really believed that anyone would listen to such an absurd request? A glance at his neutral expression almost made her think so.

"I didn't come here as a Master, and I won't show you my Servant either." With a deliberately haughty tone, she corrected his misunderstanding as she took a seat . "I'm here to ask you something as Illyasviel von Einzbern."

For the first time, a glimmer of interest appeared in his dark eyes.

"As a man of God, I will not refuse a request." He paused for a moment, peering down at her. "However, as the supervisor, I cannot share with you any information about the current war."

The thought that she would have anything to learn from him about the Holy Grail War made her smirk.

"What I want to know concerns the previous Heaven's Feel, since you were there to see the end."

The priest fell silent for a moment, his eyes clouded as if lost in memory.

"Everything concerning those events has already been reported. Even though the reports were classified, I cannot believe that the Einzberns would not have accessed them already."

She didn't bother pretending otherwise; of course they had. She had already read both the priest's own report, and the additions left by the spies that had been dispatched. However, those contained only the facts.

"I don't care about that." Dropping the act of nobility, the young girl spoke frankly. "I want you to tell me about Emiya Kiritsugu, not about what happened."

A slight twitch, one so small that she would have missed it if she hadn't been expecting it. It appeared that the events of ten years ago were still very much alive in that man's mind.

"I do not mind sharing what I know, but I only met Emiya twice, while he spent years as part of your family. My knowledge of him must be quite meager in comparison to what you already know.."

Despite his words, his smile said he had already understood but wouldn't speak unless she explained.

"Even if he was welcome, he was still an outsider. Even though Einzbern acknowledges that he was our representative during the Fourth, the fact that he lost doesn't change." Staring down at her feet, she sighed sadly. "'An outsider who was welcomed for the sake of obtaining the Holy Grail, who died correcting the problem caused by Kayneth El-Melloi.' That's about all that anyone says about him."

With her grandfather unwilling to talk, the only people left who could tell her about Kiritsugu were the three survivors of the Fourth Holy Grail War. Of those, Tohsaka Tokiomi had stepped away from the path of a magus and Waver Velvet had never met Kiritsugu. Therefore, her last resort was the priest in front of her.

"I see. For those who have sought the Holy Grail for a thousand years, I suppose there is nothing more to him than that. Very well, I shall tell you the identity of the man called Emiya Kiritsugu."

Taking the position of a lecturer with ease born of experience, Kotomine Kirei met her expectant eyes with a smile.

"I do not know how it began, but he was first brought to the attention of the world as a killer who ended lives without remorse. I do not know how it began, but it seems that he was filled with a strong thirst for justice; by taking one life, he saved many more.

Regardless of his original reason, he eventually came to face despair; no matter how many he killed, he could do nothing but stop individual incidents. He was a greedy man who could not be satisfied with saving many, and instead sought to save all."

In spite of his careless tone, a sense of bitterness filled the priest's words.

"That is how he came to join the Einzberns, who offered him the right to wish upon the Holy Grail. I do not know what occurred during his years in your home, but Kiritsugu's goal did not change; he continued to seek what he perceived as the world's salvation.

Paying no attention to those who desired an honorable contest, he repeatedly ambushed other Masters as they struggled through their own battle. I suppose you could say that from the beginning, he was a man who did not understand the value of feelings."

Paying no attention to his listener's shaking fists, he finished his exposition dismissively.

"And-" Taking a deep breath to steady her voice, the young girl began again. "And what about his death?"

"The situation was as I described it in my report. Having gone wild after coming in contact with the Lesser Grail, El-Melloi's weapon was out of control and began to emit a curse. Of those present, only Kiritsugu still had the ability to put a stop to it.

Wagering one life against many once more, I imagine that the conclusion was easy to reach for him. As I recall, he did not seem to have any regret that it had come to this."

"Why couldn't you…" Head bowed so that her silver hair hid her tears from his eyes, her voice filled with resentment even as she swallowed her intended words.

For more than a miinute, no one spoke as the priest calmly observed the shaking girl, unmoved by her reaction.

Bitterly, she rose to her feet, still avoiding his gaze by looking at the ground.

"I guess I should be thanking you for being honest."

"There is no need, it is part of my duty to remember the dead. As a part of his family, you hold the right to know that he passed away as he lived."

Turning away from him toward the exit, Illyasviel finally raised her head.

"I'll remember that."

Walking away, she turned to face him, staring defiantly into his eyes with renewed confidence.

"I know you've helped the Tohsaka before, but I'll give you a warning as thanks; even if you do it again, it won't matter. This time, Einzbern will claim the Grail for sure."

Once more, the priest bowed his head as she departed.

"If that is the will of the Holy Grail."

As the small form exited the Church, the priest who still stood before the altar stared at the cross, lost in thought.

The seven Masters who sought the Holy Grail, challenging each other for the right to access a power that could change the world.

Ten years ago, not a single one among them had managed to grasp that illusive desire, and his own hopes had been dashed.

And now, a new generation reached out, filled with that same desire.

"Illyasviel von Einzbern, carrier of a thousand-years old wish, will you be able to make right your predecessor's mistakes?"


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I still own neither Blazblue nor Type-Moon.

* * *

Observing the struggle from a faraway rooftop, the young woman couldn't stop an appreciative whistle at the strength of the rising tornado as her clothes whirled around her from the wind. There was no doubt in her mind that if she had been in the swordsman's place, she would have been torn apart.

At the same time, the strength of that demonstration also announced the conclusion of the battle.

"It's a shame, Rider. You should be using your Noble Phantasm while he's blinded; your pride is making you lose your opportunity."

It was probably inevitable that legends would enjoy fighting each others, which was why the role of the Masters in battle was to make calm decisions based on the abilities of the two warriors. In that regard, Rider's Master shone by his absence.

"Do not blame him, Master. Not everyone can be like us."

The second voice came from the darkness without warning as a shadow appeared on the rooftop to her right, but she showed no sign of surprise. Paying no more mind to the battle, she turned toward the new arrival.

Stepping forward, Servant Assassin bowed his head in greeting.

"Speaking of opportunities, did you find her?"

"Sadly not. Our suspicion that the swordsman is Archer appears to be confirmed."

The answer was acknowledged with a sigh. Naturally, the two of them had known from the beginning that the swordsman wasn't Saber; after all, they already knew the true Servant of the Sword.

"A shame, it would have been good to take him out early. Let's go then, there's no reason to stay here any longer."

"I told you from the start that there was no purpose in bothering yourself. For such small errands, I alone am more than sufficient."

"If I obtain the Holy Grail by sleeping while others worked, I might as well not obtain it at all." Brown hair following in her wake, the woman walked toward the building. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to deal with it."

With Assassin's chuckle ending the conversation, the two departed into the night.

In the eye of the whirlwind, the swordsman stood firm against the thrashing winds. Though he was safe at the moment, the walls around him had begun to shrink as the guardians approached.

"Guardians of the Assyrians, your devotion is honorable!" Forced to shout to be heard, he reaffirmed his grasp on his sword. "But you cannot triumph today, for I am a hero."

Saying so, he stepped forward into the raging storm, his stride unbroken even when he reached a point where the ground itself gave way.

"And shame upon he who calls himself a hero yet cowers before a breeze!"

Even as the earth collapsed under his feet, he jumped high into the wall of wind, pierced through it as though it was only smoke and found himself staring into the eyes of one of the two beasts.

Of course, the Shedu saw the collision coming, but the speed required to raise their greatest power left no time for him to change his course. Was it mere luck that the man had managed to get in its way?

Raising the sword high, the giant bellowed as his arms pushed against the wind, bringing the blade down against his charging foe.

The enchanted sword cracked from the impact, but it was the flesh that gave out first, and the beast, advisor and guardian of kings, was sliced from head to rear by the unexpected attack.

With the loss of the one who maintained it, the mighty wind died down and the man gracefully landed on the ground as the second Shedu returned to its disbelieving king.

Certainly, Rider had taken into account the possibility of his opponent's survival. But never had he thought that the man would be able to not only endure the attack, but counter it and slay one of the sacred guardians with only the strength of his body.

Panting from the effort, the giant stood tall and grinned.

"Well, Rider? What tactic will you use next?"

The bearded man took a deep breath as he assessed the situation, before putting a hand on his remaining guardian. Perhaps he could yet overcome the swordsman if he employed his full strength, but he could feel on his back stares that had not been there when the battle had begun.

"I do not know what your intentions are by provoking me, but I am not some wild beast that will display himself for the amusement of the masses. Let us meet again, strong one."

Once more the wind rose around guardian and king, as they rose into the air before the giant's glare.

"At that time, I shall demonstrate in full the wonders of the great king, the great flood that none can oppose."

With his final pronouncement, both vanished in the night sky.

The victor smiled contently as he brought up his sword before his eyes, observing the damage.

"Perhaps I was remiss in calling it a breeze." Raising his free hand, he gave a slight tap to the cracked blade, which broke into pieces. "I will have to offer my apologies for breaking a precious gift."

Letting the handle fall to the ground, he looked up at the sky.

Technically, it was favorable for him that Rider had stopped there. If they had continued, it would doubtlessly have become a contest of Noble Phantasms, and the advantages granted by the mystery of his identity would have vanished.

However, he couldn't extinguish the disappointment that came from an unfinished battle. Seeing his Master again would cheer him up, but it wasn't time to return yet.

"Before I depart, I have one final thing to say."

As he spit out those words, his bloodlust rose once more, chilling the air.

"To the birds in the sky, the rats that scurry on the ground, the worms buried underneath the earth, and any others who did not see it fit to announce themselves.

I allowed you to witness this display so that you will not waste my time. I have no interest in those craven, those lacking in strength, and those who have no honor.

If you have in your heart the valor to stand before me, and in your arms the strength to challenge my claim, I welcome you.

To those who are lacking in spirit, yet would seize my prize through teachery and deceit, I promise to bring down a wrath unseen since the reign of the gods.

I am the one who answered the summons of Einzbern, and the hero who will seize the Holy Grail. Here and now I proclaim to the heavens that in all the world, I am the strongest."


	10. Chapter 10

Apologies for the delay.

Disclaimer: I still own neither Blazblue nor Type-Moon.

* * *

Of course, Archer's taunt hadn't been directed toward mindless critters, but toward the familiars that had been used to spy on his clash with Rider.

Perhaps the strongest reaction came from a certain someone on the other side of Fuyuki.

"I-that-"

At a loss for words in the face of his boldness, she could only mutter angrily.

"I'm sorry?"

Lancer, who hadn't shared senses with the familiar, could only stare at his Master in confusion.

"That bastard! I'll show him who the strongest is! Lancer, we're going right now!"

Threats and boasts were only to be expected in a battle, and she had prepared herself for them, but she couldn't stop her blood pressure from rising at this particular event.

It wasn't like the enemy had scouted them and determined he was stronger; that ridiculous man had simply decided that he was strongest by default.

"Master-"

"No time." Ignoring the attempts at a protest, Rin took hold of his thin arm with an almost painful grip. "We're going to teach him a lesson. Announcing his victory like that on my watch, the nerves!"

Her Servant's unresisting hand suddenly seized, and the sudden shift in atmosphere forced her to halt her anger.

Barely a few meters from them, a man wearing ornamented robes sat. Had he been there all along and she simply overlooked him? Surely not.

"Hey, Lancer, that guy…"

"I didn't sense him." Serenely staring at the apparition, Lancer nodded. "But this pressure doesn't leave much to doubt."

She could only agree with his assessment. The man sitting there was undoubtedly a Servant. Even though the Master's Sight didn't provide her with any insight into his abilities, the sheer personality that he projected left no doubt in her mind.

In the modern world, a man who could give off a feeling of royalty while sitting on a bench could only be a Servant.

"I quite agree with your assessment, young lady." Without acknowledging the tension, the man spoke out. "He appears to be quite a prideful fellow, although perhaps not without reason."

Putting a hand on his heart, he gave her a slight nod.

"But I am remiss in my duties. I am currently acting out the role of Caster, and as fellow competitors, I must ask that you demonstrate your strength to me."

Without a single movement on his part thousands of specks of dust gathered between them in an instant, forming two large, vaguely humanoid figures.

Was it some form of summoning magecraft? It seemed unlikely considering that Rin, whose attention had been focused on him, felt no shift in the flow of mana.

She made no effort to suppress her confident smile. It didn't really matter if she didn't know where the two golems – for lack of a better term – had come from or how they had been created. The strength they exuded was nowhere enough to threaten a Servant, let alone one of Lancer's ability; he would easily defeat them.

The two figures took a step forward toward them, reducing the distance by a third.

Lancer would defeat them easily, any second now.

As they took a second step, she couldn't help but to glance at the boy next to her, who watched her with an expectant state.

"Well?"

As though confused by her simple expectations, he tilted his head.

"Well what?"

For a brief moment, she considered the possibility that he was deliberately angering her, but perhaps he was simply that passive.

She gestured at the two golems, who fortunately had decided to politely wait – perhaps Caster suspected a trap of some sort?

"Get them?"

As though it had been the only thing he had been waiting for, he moved before the golems could take a single step, his arm passing right through the chest of one of them, piercing right through where a human's heart would be.

Without pausing to look at his own work, he turned on the spot, sending his victim crashing into its compatriot.

She stood there for a moment, unable to form words. Lancer's strength wasn't surprising, in theory, and his speed wasn't anything beyond what she had heard from the past war.

What surprised her was how casual it had been. This wasn't an act reinforced by magecraft, or a secret trump card; as far as Lancer was concerned, it was nothing more than an ordinary strike.

She sent a smile to the man who had stayed motionless.

"Hey, Caster, those guys aren't exactly going to make us show our strength, you know?"

Caster responded to her smile with his own.

"I wouldn't dream of underestimating you, young lady. But perhaps you should pay attention to your surroundings."

A buzzing sound resonated through the air, and she saw in the corner of her eyes the disintegration of the two golems, only for them to reform intact.

"They can regenerate?"

With a speed that now rivaled an athlete, the two charged her as though they planned to simply crush her under their weight, only to once more be intercepted by Lancer, a single strike from his thin arm slicing them clear in half. He may as well not have bothered; the area he struck merely dissipated into specks that reassembled as soon as he had passed through.

Not missing a step, the young man accelerated his movements, striking at the two larger figures without pause from every angle. It was a strange stalemate; as long as he struck they couldn't advance, yet he couldn't seem to deal any permanent damage.

She bit her lip in concentration. This made no sense; any construct that could repair itself infinitely had to be getting its power from somewhere, and she didn't feel any great flow of prana. Besides, surely Caster wouldn't waste his resources on threats that couldn't possibly defeat Lancer.

In fact, Caster didn't appear to be doing anything at all, she would have expected him to try to attack her while her Servant was distracted.

Although, now that she thought about it, the situation itself made no sense; if Caster could simply appear out of nowhere, he should have waited until they were vulnerable before revealing himself, rather than making a show of announcing himself. He didn't appear to be a knight who obeyed complex rules of engagement.

Stricken by a sudden suspicion, she approached him with a frown that only intensified his smile while Lancer crushed a golem's head with his knee.

"Is something wrong, young lady?"

Now that she was closer, she could definitely feel a slight flow of energy going from Caster to the two golems, passing through the ground.

"You aren't here at all, are you?"

His smile morphed into a perfect mimicry of confusion.

"Whatever could you mean?"

Without another word, she levelled her finger at him and fired a single burst of magical energy – Gandr, one of the simplest curses in existence. Still, with her strength, even a simple curse would be enough to severely injure or kill an ordinary man.

Far from the result that would have been expected, Caster's head exploded, revealing a vaguely plant-like interior.

"Just a familiar whose shape you modified. This is what's been acting as the golem's core, isn't it?"

The damaged construct offered no response or resistance, and with only three more shots it was reduced to ashes and the golems fell apart on their own; for good this time.

Lancer, whose expression hadn't faltered during the entire exchange, returned to her side.

"Should we go after the one who angered you now?"

She shook her head negatively with a smile, the earlier slight had completely slipped her mind from the sheer strangeness of Caster's interference, and seeing Lancer in action had done wonders for her ego.

"Let's just end it here for tonight. I doubt we could find him again anyway."

* * *

In the magnificent workshop that had once been an humble warehouse, the real Caster nodded contentedly as the reclined on his throne.

"Well now, that was unexpectedly swift. The young lady has quite the good head on her shoulder."

"She must be one of the local Masters, I would have heard if a girl that young had come from afar to participate."

Johnathan, who had observed the battle through the large crystal ball prepared by Caster, did not share his Servant's lack of concern toward the battle they had witnessed.

For the golems to have been defeated was one thing; it had never been meant as more than a scouting manoeuver. The problem was Lancer; his power as a Servant, glanced through the Master's Sight, far surpassed what he had hoped to find.

"Will it truly be alright this way, your majesty?" Turning from the now motionless globe to Caster, he frowned. "Between the strength of her Servant and her own ability, those two might be dangerous."

"…I can see why you have summoned me, Master Wynne." No longer amused, Caster shook his head in reproach. "This is a war. If there were no opponents who appeared dangerous, then I would truly be frightened. Today's display was simply meant to observe Lancer's reaction to an attack; did you notice that he did not summon his spear? It must be quite a recognizable treasure indeed, and his skills at fighting barehanded, along with his appearance, are also clues as to his identity."

Raising a hand to stroke the artificial dove that decorated his throne, Caster nodded to himself.

"I still need some time before I can truly match heroes of his or Saber's caliber. Until then, please accept small displays like today's entertainment as premonitions of things to come.

Above all rest assured that no matter how mighty they may be, or how crafty their Masters are, it is in your hands that the Holy Grail will rest come the end."


	11. Chapter 11

The residents of Fuyuki would have been quite surprised to learn that there had been a lot of underground renovation happening without their knowledge over the past month. All the proper paperwork had been filled and promptly lost, and all the workers had done their jobs and forgotten about it, such that now there were very few people who knew about the underground complex that had been prepared in the eastern outskirts of the city.

Constantin Nazar Yggdmillenia, for his part, would have been quite angry to learn that anyone knew of it, considering he had spent most of his remaining possessions paying for its construction and subsequent disappearance from official documents.

Ruminating on yesterday's events, he took a long sip from his mug of coffee; a testament to the fact that he had not slept in over thirty-six hours, much like his unkempt blond hair.

"Perhaps I misjudged the level of this battle." Muttering to himself, he paced in front of the cylinder containing the seven model; it had only arrived in the last hour from France, and he had been hard at work making sure that it met the required standards. "I should have summoned a stronger Servant, perhaps a renowned hero of Greece? Or of Russia, I could have executed the ceremony before departing from home…"

Words he would never dare utter anywhere near his Servant, naturally, but the man in question was currently outside surveying the city; there was no risk of being overheard.

"You concern yourself over meaningless trifles. Rider will be more than sufficient for his intended task."

No risk of being overheard by his Servant, that is. He couldn't stop a nervous twitch at the sound of the disinterested voice of his partner, but at least he managed not to spill his coffee all over his notes.

"I-I merely worry, sir, that he has displayed too much already. His battle against Saber was-"

"It is of no consequence." The older man interrupted him without raising his voice; it was a matter of course that others would listen when he spoke. "Leave the war to the Servant; your task is to ensure that the experiment will run smoothly. Were the pieces you acquired satisfactory, or must I retrieve the work of Einzbern?"

Constantin swallowed his immediate retort that the war concerned them all, especially if their experiment was to succeed, and turned to his notes, finding safety in cold facts.

"The pieces acquired from the old Matou have successfully integrated with model two, although one appears to be experiencing some irregularities. I should be able to have the first four models operational within the next twenty-four hours."

The man in black stayed silent for almost a full minute, seemingly lost in thoughts.

"Then that will have to do. You may use Rider to ensure that none of the Servants are eliminated before their time; use the Command Spell if you must."

Turning toward the door without warning, he began to leave.

"I will take the second model with me for the day; our odds of success will increase if they are familiarized with the town."

Going out into the town? Him? They had been working together for almost a decade, perhaps not as closely as the term partner would imply, but still, Constantin had never known him to have any particular interest in populated areas.

"Of course," Not that the man had been asking for permission, but Constantin liked to pretend he had some degree of control over where his creations went. "But if I may ask; what will you be doing? It wouldn't do to agitate the model more than necessary."

Stopping at the door, the man fell silent once more and for a moment Constantin thought that he might leave without bothering to answer.

"There is a familiar scent in this town, an old memory is stirring. I wish to confirm a hypothesis."

Without another word, the man in black stepped outside the workshop, leaving Constantin alone with his worries.


	12. Chapter 12

As the, pointless if you asked him, ceremony finally ended, the people began to leave the church. There were some who stayed for a moment to exchange words with the priest, but soon they too departed.

With the exception of one. The only reason that the long-haired foreigner had avoided notice was that he had sat in the back near to the wall; if he had done otherwise, even the attention demanded by the priest wouldn't have hidden the fact that one of the attendants made no effort to follow the instructions given.

When the heavy doors closed, signaling the departure of the last members of the flock, the priest's voice once more filled the church.

"Allow me to extend my greetings, Waver Velvet. I wish you could have informed me of your arrival in advance; I would have prepared a proper welcome."

"No one will listen to the lone voice of a child."

With restrain that he rarely felt the need to exert these days, Waver held back any outward reaction.

Ten years ago, the man who stood before him had been the one to set him on the path he now followed. Since then, he had climbed through the ranks of the Clock Tower, and even as a mediocre magus now held an influence that no one could deny. Yet, as expected - even that couldn't compare.

The man that stood before him hadn't changed, and the pressure he exerted was no less than it was a decade ago. Before the oppressive feeling that stemmed from Kotomine Kirei as he stood still before the statue of Christ, Waver felt himself return to the fool he had been back then.

How would the great politicians of the Clock Tower feel if they knew that some random priest in a backwater country held a sense of authority far beyond theirs? The thought was enough to bring a smirk to his face, and the spell of lingering memories was broken.

Kotomine Kirei hadn't changed, but Waver had. This time, his voice wouldn't be buried.

"I did think about calling, you know? I kept your number and everything. But then I thought about it and I realized there was no point. There wasn't anything I could do from London, and there wasn't anything you could do from Fuyuki. After all, the thing I want to find out didn't exist in this world at the time."

"Oh? Are you not Lord El-Melloi the second –my congratulations, it came as quite a surprise-, the inheritor of the man who caused the situation that brought about the mystery you seek to unravel? If nothing else, I would have thought that the late Kayneth El-Melloi's notes would contain all the answers you sought."

"That title doesn't have anything to do with me." The illustrious title didn't mean a damn thing, when he'd only earned it thanks to his old teacher's work. "Of course, I did read through his notes for anything of the kind when I organized them, but it's like I thought back then; Kayneth wouldn't even have known where to begin to make a curse like that. Even if he did, he wouldn't have needed to destroy the Lesser Grail to do it."

The priest doesn't react; of course not. As one of the few remaining witnesses, he knew all along that the official story was fabricated.

"I've more or less pieced together what happened." Without waiting for any further prompting, Waver continues. "Kayneth had notes on most of  
his belongings, and I cross-referenced them with your ridiculous report to figure out what happened. Still, there's one thing missing. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

The priest maintained his smile, but there was something noticeably strange about his countenance.

The man probably wasn't used to be the one listening to others. Well, too bad for him; if there was one thing Waver had learned in that decade, it was how to speech at people.

"I believe I can hazard a guess. No matter how fictional you suspect my report of being, and no matter how much evidence you found to corroborate that theory, the fact remains that you cannot deny the results; on that night, a curse was most definitely spread throughout the neighborhood."

"Exactly." Rising to his full height, which regrettably still left quite a bit shorter than his interlocutor, Waver returned the smile. "For a while, I thought that someone else might have done it, but I read up on you, Kotomine Kirei. Even if you had wanted to, there isn't a time in your life when you could have learned a curse like that. Tohsaka Tokiomi lost his abilities as a magus, so he can't have been responsible. Emiya Kiritsugu, Magus Killer or not, never showed anything of the sort and if the Einzbern could have taught him something like that, they wouldn't have needed to hire him in the first place."

"Correct on all points."

"That should be the time to turn toward the Servants, but Archer and Rider were the only ones left standing, and both of them were in front of me at the time. So there was only one conclusion that I could reach."

For a moment, silence reigned as the two men stared at each other. One hoping that his train of thought would be confirmed, the other simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the obvious resolution,

Finally, it was the priest who broke it.

"Say it, Waver Velvet."

"The only possible conclusion that makes sense is if the curse was already there. Something's wrong with the Holy Grail, and I need to find out what it is."

Kotomine sighed deeply, his smile replaced by a thoughtful expression.

"My thoughts have come to run along the same lines, but there is nothing that can be done about it."

"What are you talking about? You're the supervisor; it's your damn job to do something about it."

"As you say, I am the supervisor, but that is an authority only over Masters and Servants. It is not my task to monitor the Holy Grail; even if I desired to do so, it is not within my power." At those words, his eyes turned sharp, as though they sought to peer into Waver's very soul. "Besides, while I have my suspicions, there exists no proof. You returned to this battlefield alongside an ally chosen by the Holy Grail; as the impartial administrator, I cannot grant you special privileges."

Waver's own stare, which had begun to fill with anger, turned to awe.

"I can't believe you actually managed to spit that out with a straight face. Forget the Holy Grail War; you were born for politics." He shook his head. Now that he thought about it, convincing that particular priest to act wasn't what he'd come here for; the fact that someone who'd been present at the time hadn't rejected his hypothesis was all he needed. "Fine, do whatever you want; I don't care if you pretend that there's nothing to be concerned about. I've been waiting for a decade for the Grail to descend again, and I even had to bring that idiot along to make sure no one messed things up for me; I'll ascertain its condition myself, and you'd better keep to that impartiality."

And once he had proof that something had gone wrong with the ritual, it wouldn't matter what the priest said; there were plenty of people that would listen to him.

As the dark-haired man stormed out, Kotomine sighed again.

Why was it that troublesome people impeded on his schedule one after the other to dig up old memories, yet he had to send hired help just to get his student to pass by for the minute it would take to present her Servant?


End file.
